sing me anything
by brigittebites
Summary: Sing me something soft, sad and delicate. Or loud and out of key. Sing me anything." - it was just a moment of memories, but it was like living life twice...which was more than enough.


**.sing me anything.**

by: brigittebites

brigitte says: 

Please be aware that Harry Potter and all the things associated with him, are not mine.

Neither are the lyrics to 'Existentialism on Prom Night' and 'View from Heaven'.

To make it easier for those who don't know, lyrics to EPN are done in _italics_, and lyrics to VH are in **bold**.

Also, right now, i'm debating with myself as to whether or not I should even bother uploading this ... it's just another one of my midnight pieces of work ... written while on a caffeine high ... and, the words here, are guided by just my fingers. I haven't thought anything through, so forgive me if it's all just a mess and ... well, terrible heh. Basically, I got that one line stuck in my head, and decided to write. Just like that. So ... yeah, I hope it wasn't _too_ bad or disappointing heh.

Enjoy, and any words of encouragement would be greatly appreciated. 

=)

**~@~ ** ***~*})*({*~*** **~@~**

_"Sing me something soft, sad and delicate. Or loud and out of key. Sing me anything?"_

That was how it started ... with Draco Malfoy in a fevered state, asking Hermione Granger to sing to him, as his mother always did ... and she remembered that moment so perfectly well. It was one of those moments that somehow, captured your mind and plastered itself within those walls. Forever to remind you of that instant. Sadly, even perfect moments were ruined.

And although Hermione wished so hard that it was just that memory of Draco that would play, and replay, itself in her head ... _everything_ was what she had to deal with. Hermione closed her eyes, as she prepared herself for another flashback ... another replay ... of what happened at the end of her Seventh Year at Hogwarts ... a painful and constant reminder of the so-called 'Great War' ... where the Light, defeated the Dark. To Hermione, it was far from 'Great' ... for she lost not just her love, but _herself_.

**.-.-.**

**I'm just so tired ... won't you sing me to sleep?**

**and fly through my dreams?**

Everywhere they looked, flames engulfed bodies, trees, buildings. It was a landscape painted in autumn shades: brown, raging red, fiery orange, yellow ... but nothing close to peaceful.

It could have been called beautiful, a beautiful disaster, had the slithering gray spirals of smoke been eliminated from the skyline.

Or the burning trees distinguished.

Or if the ground were covered in flowers, grass and all the normalties you'd expect ... or even an ordinary pavement, instead of dead bodies.

Or the heart-wrenching cries of infants stilled as they watched their parents cursed to their deaths.

No, this was a distressing scene.

The scene which had been long awaited by all of the Wizarding World.

_This _... this _was_, as ironic as it seemed, the _Great War._

**So I can hitch a ride with you tonight?**

**And get away from this place ... have a new name, and face**

The students were going to be recruited soon. Recruited to fight the battle their elders had started, had wanted ... had feared.

Hermione turned to her dear friend through the years, Harry Potter, who was seated gloomily on the ground, next to his girlfriend Ginny Weasley. Ron was busy peering out the safe confines of the window that was their only source to the outside world, from where they had been 'stashed' by their HeadMaster.

Hermione noticed the lack of glimmer in Harry's eyes, the dark bags underneath them, depicting his lack of sleep lately, the messy black hair, and his thin frame. He was very much deep in thought ... about what, no one would ever know.

Leaning forward slightly, Hermione placed her delicate hand on his arm, "Harry? What are you thinking?"

Looking up, he smiled weakly, "Nothing ... i'm just tired."

"Aren't we all? We've been in here for 3 days, and nothing's changed. I wonder what's going on out there ... if everyone's alright ... ?"

"It's a war 'Mione ... I don't think anyone's ever quite alright in one of those."

She looked down, saddened by the reality of his words.

"I suppose."

**I just ain't the same ... without you in my life**

**late night drives, all alone in my car**

It was like that these days. The conversations: short, brusque, tight ... indifferent.

Hermione, despite her 'cheery' front, wasn't any better off than the rest. Inside, she was dying of fear.

Her greatest fear was death ... and it seemed to her, that in a matter of time, she would be the one lying on that pavement.

Just another witch, just another unknown woman, Just another body ... just another statistic.

Glancing up from her hands, the ones she used to love for their softness, the perfectly manicured nails, the flawless skin ... now scarred with cuts and bruises, her eyes landed upon the shells of the people she had grown up with.

There, by the window, stood Ron, face stuck to the window, frozen tears sliding down his cheeks, as he undoubtedly pictured his family out there. He had become a man, but not the only man she knew who cried.

And next to Harry, her friend Ginny. Red hair now tied up so as not to get in her way, leaning backwards, eyes squeezed shut ... body shaking with fear.

Parvati, biting her finger nails, eyes darting madly around the room, as if in search of an enemy. And for an instant, their eyes locked ... before Parvati smiled her sweet, apologetic smile, pointed her wand to her head, and closed her eyes for the last time. A single tear escaped Hermione's eyes ... no one would know until it was too late.

And across the room, seated directly infront of her ... was her dirty little secret. The one person who would forever remain a secret. Why she couldn't tell anyone, was still a mystery to her.

**I can't help but start singing lines from all our favorite songs**

**and melodies in the air, singin' life just ain't fair**

Ah yes, there was Draco Malfoy. Looking as immaculate as ever. Pale chiseled face, held high. Smirk in place, even in such times. Body leaning slightly forward, hands supporting his head slightly, as if he were bored. Infact, he probably was.

Hermione's heart sped up at the sight of him, openly staring at her. And she wanted nothing more than to dart across the room, and be held in his arms. 

As he had once told her, that holding her, he was holding everything.

Instead, she settled for a smile ... a small smile, one which would not have been noticable unless you had been staring at her beautiful face.

The doe like brown eyes downcast, petite nose scratched, and hair a mess as always.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and he mouthed the words 'one four three' - I love you - before she turned her head and attention to Harry.

"Harry ... i'm scared." she confessed, scooting herself closer towards Harry.

Harry's eyes searched Hermione's, deep and thoroughly.

"Me too 'Mione ... me too."

"Will we, you know ... will we be ok?"

He would have wanted to say yes, and promise her that the world would go back to being the way it was ... but that would be lying.

So he settled for his own wish, "I hope so ... for the love of God, I hope so ..."

**Sometimes, I still just can't believe that you're gone**

**and i'm sure the view from heaven ... beats the hell out of mine here**

It wasn't long before Cornelius Fudge, the only man not out there fighting for the Light, fighting for his life ... burst into the room, robes billowing around him, glasses perched peculiarly on his nose, lips a tight and straight line.

"It's time."

That was all he had to say, before the students, the re-inforcements, their last chance, jumped up, wands in hand, sunken hearts, and stomachs in their throats, made their way out that door, somehow, motivated again, to be working as a team to save what was left of the world as they knew it.

Ron looked determined, as did his sister.

Crabbe and Goyle, muscular as they were, looked as dumb as always ... but knew their mission.

Hermione, she was plain petrified. But with one look at Draco, and the approving nod he gave her, she felt she would be ok.

It was a look that displayed a million meanings. A million interpretations could be made.

It could have been a nod to say "I'm ready", or "Let's do this" ... perhaps "we'll be fine" or "we can do this" ... but to Hermione, it was the look that said,

"I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you, we'll make it out together"

**And if we all believe in heaven**

**maybe we'll make it through one more year ... down here**

The view from the window was nothing like the real thing. A comparison like that of sitting in a simulator, and actually experiencing the actual thing.

It was beyond words.

The smell of smoke, and death was over-powering.

The sight burnt the eyes, sickened the stomach, added weight to the heart.

It was reality.

As soon as they had made it out onto the battle field, the students went their separate ways, taking their final glances at everyone, before plucking up their courage and putting their lives on the line.

Hermione sucked in a long breath, before running out there to fight for what she believed in ... whatever it was, for she no longer knew.

**Feel your fire, when it's cold in my heart**

**and things sorta start reminding me of my last night with you**

Harry had nothing left to lose. He was resigned to the fate he had come to be accustomed to: fearing and fighting for his life.

And to be honest, he no longer cared what happened.

He was tired. Tired of the fear, tired of the nightmares, tired of the wishes, tired of the hopes, tired of who he was ... tired of his 'magnificent' non-existent life.

This was all he had left. This war, to fight for everything he had suffered all those years.

To avenge the deaths of his parents.

With one last backward look at Ron and Hermione, Harry pointed his wand forward and ran on screaming "ahhhhhh" as he 'charged' into the nearest deatheater and cursed it to death, a slow and painful, fiery death.

And to Harry's surprise, it felt good to kill. It felt good to release his anger this way.

With a new adrenaline rush, he rounded the corner and blasted things up into flames, before it was his turn to fall.

**I only need one more day ... just one more chance to say**

**I wish I had gone up with you too**

Ron rushed around, dodging fired curses in his direction, occasionally tripping over dead sprawled bodies on the ground.

He, unlike Harry, had everything to lose. If his family was out here, alive, he did not want to be dying!

Every now and then, he'd bump into some red-head, and he'd automatically spin the person around, just to see if they were George, or Fred ... or Arthur or Molly ... anyone!

Ron was never given enough credit. He was far braver than what people believed. He threw himself at several death eaters, screaming "Hasta la NEVER baby!" in their faces before burstign them up into flames, or freezing them to death ... or sometimes, just using the unforgivable curses!

As he turned around, to head in the other direction, he saw his sister drop to the ground, in an agony ... and he knew she was going to be dead in an instant. 

Setting his eyes on her killer, he aimed his wand before screaming, and crying, 'avada kedavra'.

No one messed with a Weasley.

**You won't be coming back, and I didn't get to say goodbye**

**I really wish I got to say goodbye**

Draco was probably the calmest wizard out there. He was a natural killer, in the best sense of the word.

Had he the time and opportunity, he would have polished his nails there and then.

Sure, he was racing around killing the deatheaters - his fellow mean, the peole he was supposed to be ... but couldn't.

He was on the lookout for his father. His father would be a damned difficult deatheater to beat.

But he sure as hell would try.

He wanted to make _her_ proud. He wanted to break free from the mold he was expected to grow into.

He wanted ... he wanted to do _good_.

It was in this moment of thought, that Lucius Malfoy appeared behind him, and held the most expensive wand dreamable, to Draco's neck.

"You shame me. You shame the Malfoy name. You shame the Dark Lord. I bet, you even shame that filthy mudblood over there ..." Lucius nodded towards the pretty brunette, tears rolling down her cheeks as she stumbled over a dead body to make it to another death eater.

"I despise you, and every little evil thing you've done in your lifetime. I despise everything about you ... _father_" he spat the last word out like it was some nasty disease.

"Well ... that can't be helped."

Draco was now pinned to a wall, face to face with his father, who held a wand to his neck, while grasping dracos other arm tightly.

"As for you shaming me Draco, that _can_ be helped." He grinned, before whispering a slow acting, but deadly curse, in his sons ear.

**I hope that all is well in heaven, cause it's all shot to hell down here**

**I hope that I find you in heaven, cause i'm so ...**

Hermione turned around, she could hear a very familiar voice screaming. Screaming in agony, or in anger she couldn't quite distinguish.

But no matter what, she ran. Ran with all the energy she had left. Ran with all that she could. Ran like she had never ran before.

And the voice lead her to a pale and weak body, lying on the ground, alongside a man of the same aristocratic cheek bones, thin lips, blonde hair ... only difference was, one was dying, the other was gone.

"Draco! Oh my God! Draco!" Hermione began to sob uncontrollably, hugging and clutching onto the young mans body, hugging it with all her might, kissing his forehead, crying on his chest ... crying for everything she had lost at that moment.

"Don't. Don't cry." He whispered, as he lifted up a hand and painfully reached for her face. The beautiful tear streaked face of the woman he was so inlove with.

His thumb traced the outline of her jaw, rose up to her lips, as he rubbed them gently.

She opened her mouth slightly and kissed his thumb, before it rose even higher, stroking her left cheek.

She looked into his face. His handsome face. In pain, but ever so beautiful. There was a large gash on his cheek where he had fallen to the ground, and she carefully kissed her hand before placing it on the wound.

Leaning down and ever closer to Draco's face, Hermione carefully let her lips touch the warmth of his.

And for one tiny instant, they were lost in the passion of their captured and stolen kiss, as it deepened...

The dizzying pleasure of it all, the familiar feel of his breath as he parted from her lips, and whispered:

"Sing me something soft, sad and delicate. Or loud and out of key. Sing me anything ..."

Just as it had begun, it ended.

It lasted forever, but ended too soon.

It was a beautiful disaster.

_Just_ another beautiful disaster.

**Lost without you down here, you won't be coming back**

**and I didn't get to say goodbye ... I really wish I got to say goodbye**

**.-.-.**

It was painful. But so were all the other flashbacks. Hermione kept her eyes closed for just another minute, as she remembered the pain of seeing Harry doubled over, glasses cracked, eyes shut, and mouth open as if he were shouting, the pain of finding Ron crying over Ginny's body, the pain of singing to a man who wasn't there anymore, the pain of Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall frozen in death, the pain of having Ron's hand in hers and being lead away without a final glance, the pain of everything.

War for peace? What an excuse.

It wasn't about who were going to be left behind, be it the Light or the Dark, it was about who were killed, from either side.

And really? It wasn't worth it.

**~@~ ** ***~*})*({*~*** **~@~**


End file.
